


Complicit in her Torture

by nonky



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Jane was the one in labour, so it was up to him to piss off their nurse, steal hospital supplies, invent a new kind of chair and find the second pair of handcuffs they needed. Kurt didn't know how he was expected to do all that without yelling. Ridiculous future fluff for Valentine's Day, with only a very general and non-graphic birth scene.





	

Jane wasn't the only person being put through hell, though he didn't see anyone else even in the hallways. There weren't as many screams as he'd feared, and the room had more furniture than Kurt Weller had expected. He appreciated the attention paid to Jane's recovery between bouts of torture. She was allowed to rest, given a decent bed. 

It didn't help. Her pain at the lowest level was intense, her body trying to combat it with cramping movements. She was so tired, but lying down put pressure on limbs that couldn't recall a time before the pain. 

He tried to tell himself the goal was not to kill her. They were professionals, this was necessary. He was permitted to be there and help her as much as he could. 

But this baby had somehow decided to grow to be at least nine pounds, a bulk of a blessing that now had to get out of her body. Jane had been certain she didn't want the drugs the hospital could give, and now they were a little past the time for most drugs to even help. 

Kurt was aware there was a ticking clock counting down to a surgery, as well. If the pushing wasn't going well soon, the doctor was going to suggest a c-section. He was trying to be grateful the option was there - that there was help in an emergency to assure him of a healthy baby and and a happy new mother - but cutting into her felt so extreme. 

They had somehow fooled themselves into thinking this was about physical fitness. Jane's workouts had continued most of her pregnancy, altered to allow for her increased weight and the energy she needed to grow a baby. Her endurance was amazing, but they were minutes away from having to admit the natural birth plan was not working out.

"I really don't want to lie down," she said, her normally throaty voice just breaking from thirst. "It's not comfortable to lie down. It's the wrong position. I just can't stay on my feet for a long time."

He rushed to the bed, putting the cup of ice chips down as he reached out for her. Jane looked to him with relief, managing finally to get to her side with her knees curled up. She hissed, and opened her legs. 

"I can't get somewhere that works to let the head down," she told him. "It gets pushed back up when I rest. I need to squat or something but my legs aren't letting me."

They had eschewed a fancy birthing suite for their nearest hospital, genuinely sure the good checkups meant the whole thing would go smoothly. Jane had known her patience for getting in and out of baths and being given aromatherapy treatments would not stand up during labour. She hadn't counted on being this tired, Kurt knew. 

He gave her the cup of ice chips he'd been sent for, and watched her take a few. His hand went to the baby and he felt a contraction harden her body and send her into intense yoga breathing. 

"We could get you out of bed for a minute, raise the head and you can kneel up," he offered. 

"Bracing into the mattress is too soft."

Two minutes later, he was back with an armful of stolen sheets and terrible wooden chair from a waiting room. Kurt had found a rather wide-seated one, and he dumped it in the only open area on the floor. He put the extra sheets down by Jane's feet, feeling her looking at him with tolerant love. The nurse was displaying more of a grudging disbelief. 

"I'm working on it, sweetheart," he called. 

The process of padding the varnished wooden arms was aggravating, but he was determined now. Apparently the fancy stuff was more necessary than they thought, and he'd have bought all of it if he'd known. Even after the doctor had told them the baby was on the large side, Kurt had assumed Jane was right in her certainty she could do it naturally. 

He just assumed she could do anything, and it hardly seemed the time to argue now when she was slumping with both arms around her middle and trying to soothe the baby with rubs between contractions. 

It took too long, but he finally had sheets folded neatly and covering every bare wood surface evenly. There was enough substance to the chair to be firm, and the backrest would be tall enough to brace. A recliner might be better, but he didn't have time to go steal another one. 

"Ah, damn it, that's gonna slide all over the place," he said to himself. He reached into his belt for the handcuffs ever present and used them to latch the frame of the chair to the brackets securing the heater to the wall. "Jane, you have your cuffs with you?"

She was strangling a pillow, her face red and her knees slung wide. Her silence was worst than if she'd been moaning and making a fuss. She'd made little noises of protest in early labour, and then stopped to preserve her energy. 

"My purse, " she sighed.

"Sir, this is all very thoughtful," the nurse attempted. "I think you might be panicking."

He stood up, rattled but determined to be nice. He couldn't think of anything nice to say to the nurse, so he smiled oddly and made a weird gesture of waving away her concern. He'd told Jane he wouldn't yell at people. They were going to need a lot of doctors with a child and he couldn't just navigate every visit by yelling until he got answers. 

That sounded logical, but this whole natural birth thing was getting a bit crazy. Jane - who had married him despite everything - had let him put a baby in her, and was now being held hostage in a bed to rest. Nine pounds of baby after nine months of carrying around the load of the baby and the emotional load of his nervous energy should have broken any woman. 

She came out of the contraction with a smile for him, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm okay."

"I'm not," he grumbled, but in a very soft tone. Yelling around babies was discouraged. Kurt stroked her belly and put the purse next to her for her to find the cuffs. She only needed a second and then her body shifted into the next grind of pain. He stayed by her, their foreheads meeting as Jane suffered. 

Her exhale was the only noise. No one was counting or reading guided meditation passages. They weren't really the type of couple for that to work. It was nice, but this was more of an eleventh hour mission now. You got in there, took the pain, and ducked the bullets. This was more like taking the bullets in the vest deliberately. 

Kurt kissed her forehead and went back to his nefarious creation. By crossing the handcuffs he could attach the chair pretty close to the wall. It would skid less than an inch and should be heavy enough for Jane to brace herself without tipping. 

He stood up and washed his hands. Hand washing was another must around babies, and he intended to be getting on with this whole angry bowling ball crushing his wife's insides fiasco. He was going to have to take a hard line on the parenting, because Jane had been letting their kid make her quietly miserable for nine months.

They were going to name their bowling ball Evan, or maybe Ian. Not Kurt, though, because that would be too weird. And it was really up to Jane, because after this she could keep beehives in the living room or paint the whole apartment neon colours. She thought the baby might not look like any of the names they had chosen. 

Kurt had decided to immediately make the kid clean his room, because this amount of time just to be born seemed like pure stubbornness, and he couldn't survive more of that. 

Jane was sliding to the edge of the bed, and he put an arm out to help her cross to the chair. The nurse following, wheeling the stand of monitors attached to Jane in various places.

Kurt held her arm as Jane looked at his new, improved chair. She studied it, and gave it a little kick that didn't move it. 

"Okay, so now I have to figure out how I'm going to put myself on there. Let's throw a sheet over the cushioned part," she said. 

Their new white chair wasn't pretty, but it was steady. Jane planted one knee on the seat, and leaned both arms on the back rest. With his help, she draped her other leg over the arm of the chair. It didn't look comfortable, but she could get her hips adjusted now that she wasn't on one side or her back. 

"That's good, that's enough room," she said, swallowing. "I'm going to try to go back to pushing."

"I should really get the doctor back in the room." The nurse was young, and Kurt felt a little bad they were being so much trouble. She was obviously nervous. 

"We're fine here for a minute," he said. "As I understand, there's more than one push to get a baby."

The poor thing hovered for a moment, then hurried out. He hoped he wasn't getting her in trouble, but Jane was running this show. She'd been very clear, earlier when she yelled at the doctor. 

"I'm going for fifteen pushes," his wife told him, her voice finding a bit of humour. 

"I was going to say you could do it in ten, twelve at the most."

"Knock it down to six," Jane said. "At this rate, Patterson will be in here to deliver this baby for us with an app on her tablet."

The reminder their team was outside cheering them on seemed to revive both of them. Kurt gave a final pat to the baby inside Jane, and kissed his wife lingeringly. 

"I assume you're up for catching this giant baby," she asked. "I don't know that I'll have a hand free."

"At your service."

Kurt held her steady and she closed her eyes, her upper body hunching as she pushed. She groaned instead of screaming, keeping her air as much as she could. Neither of them was counting, but he did know the tension erupted into a blistering joy when she muttered, "Head, get it Kurt."

He cupped the frankly odd little skull, and felt it wobble around as Jane kept pushing. She was clearly not waiting on anyone, but the baby turned with another few attempts, and then gave a sloppy, wet slide out into Kurt's arms, ruining the first of many of his father's shirts. 

"Oh, my God!" Their nurse was back, horrified her rogue patients had gone and done all the work for them. The doctor rushed over, and there was a flurry of activity as Jane and the baby were both checked and cleaned up. 

Fifteen minutes of blurred emotional state later, Jane was recovering nicely, the baby was a round snuggle of hunger at her breast, and their doctor had mostly forgiven them because they had done an excellent job of handling things themselves. Kurt was busying himself with touching Jane gently and kissing her face, then touching the baby gently and kissing his face. 

He even got a compliment about his improvised birthing chair, and a clean scrub shirt to wear.

"I don't know if he looks like an Evan," Jane said, studying her baby thoughtfully. "Or an Ian. We still have those name books, right?"

They had a library of name books, and another of childcare. Kurt had considered putting a bookcase on the fire escape. 

"So high maintenance," he grumbled softly. "Get me pregnant, catch the baby, read all the books. I'm basking here, Jane. I just got myself to stop tearing up. I'm too congested to even enjoy the new baby smell."

She turned her face up and glowed at him. "I'm sorry. I just want him to have a really good name. I think he might be another Kurt Weller," she said happily. "But not if you really will feel weird about it."

He was going to have to triple his life insurance because these two were going to kill him with the strain to his heart. He pressed his face to her bare shoulder. 

"What did I just say about the crying," he muttered. "Give me a little while to congratulate myself on not fainting. Everything today is amazing and weird at the same time."

"Yeah," Jane smiled. "It was really strange. I think his head might be as big as mine."

Kurt winced. The actual weight of their now peaceful bowling ball was closer to ten pounds. "I'm so sorry about that. Mine was like a marble balanced on a toothpick until I was twelve."

His tired wife laughed for a full five minutes, hard enough he had to hold the baby for her.


End file.
